Even though I was adopted in 1966, I had not heard the phrase “adoptee trauma” until five days ago, which caused me to feel a surge of emotion that IRead More...

When I was 49 my body couldn’t take it anymore.  It broke.  I broke.  I had been swallowed whole by an abyss of excruciating pain and paralyzing sadness. Before theRead More...

I’ve known I was adopted for as long as I can remember.  My parents told me that being adopted meant I was extra special because they chose me.   IRead More...

I used to have a very strong opinion about the definition of a parent.  I would argue that a parent is not someone who gives birth to you, that’s theRead More...

Some things are harder to write about than others.  Writing about my brother is one of those things, but I’m not going to be able to skip over the toughRead More...

Earlier this year, I heard the words “adoptee” and “adoptee trauma” for the first time.  It’s hard to believe that I had no idea the ongoing trauma adoptees like myselfRead More...

I had a friend when I was in elementary school that I was close to, or as close as I would let anyone get to me that is, and weRead More...